


light the fuse inside your brain

by shatteredhourglass



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Inadvisable Reasons To Get Tattoos, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Sappy, Tattoos, post-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass
Summary: Matt gets a tattoo.





	light the fuse inside your brain

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't get tattoos for other people, it's not worth it if it goes pear-shaped.

“This is a terrible idea even by your standards, Matt, and you have a _lot_ of terrible ideas,” Foggy says, crossing his arms over his chest.

He’s trying to look disapproving, but the expression on his face is no deterrent for a blind man, even if Matt can probably sense what he’s doing from the tone of Foggy’s voice. Karen stifles a laugh beside him and he elbows her gently, ignoring the way Matt’s smirking at them both. There’s something intimately satisfying about that smirk, something Foggy doesn’t want to think about too hard while they’re in public if he can help it. Matt’s still looking soft and lazy from the morning they’d spent in his apartment, sleeping in and enjoying the comfort of being together again. The worst of his injuries have healed under Sister Maggie’s watchful eye and now there’s just the one neon green band-aid on the line of his jaw where Foggy had stuck it as a joke, and the bruising they’d left on Matt’s throat where it’s just visible above the collar of his shirt. It’s good, so good to see Matt with them again. It feels like the world’s righted itself again. _Nelson, Murdock and Page_ , Foggy thinks giddily, and the words settle in his chest, tucked under his heart.

“Hi. Matthew, was it? Right this way.”

Matt turns his head in the direction of the red-haired receptionist’s voice, smiling at her. She looks suitably charmed, and Karen rolls her eyes and tucks her arm around Foggy’s waist. Karen’s hand tucks into the pocket of his pants and Foggy can’t help smiling. It’s a little possessive, almost, but he kind of likes it. He leans back into her and watches Matt fold his cane away neatly, taking the receptionist’s arm when she offers it and begins leading them into the back of the studio.

“A blind guy getting a tattoo. Now I’ve seen everything,” the artist says in greeting when they stop at his station. He’s got piercings in places that make Foggy cringe inwardly. Matt’s lips curl up slightly with amusement and Foggy guesses there’s a silent quip there about _seeing_ everything that Matt isn’t saying out loud. Snarky even in the confines of his own head, that’s Matt Murdock, alright. Foggy loves him for it, so much there aren’t words.

The tattoo artist files through the sheets on his desk and picks out one with a green sticker attached to it. He holds it up to Karen and she lets go of Foggy to inspect it closely, tucking her hair aside. Foggy lets her take care of it, turns his attention to Matt. Matt turns his head in Foggy’s direction and tips it to the side like he can feel Foggy’s gaze on him. Hell, maybe he can, his senses could be that crazy. The machine in the next station is tattooing a man with obnoxiously bright hair, and the buzzing makes him frown. If the noise is mildly annoying for him, what’s it like for Matt, with his hearing? Still, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, a pleased little smile on his face as he takes a step closer. His hands settle on Foggy’s shoulders, warm and solid, and Foggy smiles back even though it can’t be seen.

“You’re sure about this, Matty?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything. Trust me,” comes the answer, paired with a fond smile. Foggy feels like his heart is overflowing. He can’t stop himself from tangling his fingers in Matt’s hair to pull him into a kiss. He hears the artist make a surprised noise behind them but he ignores it, tasting Matt’s smile and laughing against his mouth. It kind of ruins the romance, but he’s just so _happy_. He feels Karen’s hands wind around his waist and then Matt’s pulling back to kiss her over Foggy’s shoulder. It’s absolutely glorious, being sandwiched between them like this, knowing they’re both his and he’s theirs, too.

The artist coughs behind them, a little awkwardly. Karen pulls back with a shy laugh and Foggy snorts. Surely he’s seen something like them before, polyamory isn’t that strange nowadays. Although the fact that they work together as well as sleep together is probably a weird one. Maybe they’re all unique in their own way, even though only one of them is a nighttime vigilante. He wriggles out of the squash of bodies and gently pushes Matt towards the tattoo chair. Karen sits on the free space by Matt’s outstretched legs as he lays down on the chair and Foggy takes the stool by the artist, who’s still looking a little shocked. But he still pushes Matt’s t-shirt up his spine and starts cleaning the skin and running a razor over it quickly, so Foggy doesn’t say anything about it. Matt lets out a quiet sigh and reaches out for Foggy’s hand, linking their fingers together.

“Okay?”

Matt lets out a soft laugh. “Are _you_ okay?”

“This is the most romantic and the most absolutely, horrendously dorky thing anyone had ever done for me,” Foggy blurts out.

“Me too,” Karen agrees, looking amused as she pats the back of Matt’s knee comfortingly. The tattoo artist begins applying the transfer paper to what might be the only part of skin on his back that isn’t scarred, a patch just above the waistband of his jeans. Foggy’s eyes run over the purple lines that stand out on Matt’s skin once the paper’s peeled off, the delicate, sharp curve of the _K_ interlocking with the softer, blockier _F_. Matt’s fingertips brush the back of his hand, feeling him out, and although Matt doesn’t turn his head towards Foggy there’s no doubt his attention’s right there. Foggy lifts their intertwined hands up to press his lips to Matt’s scarred knuckles briefly, and Matt’s smile widens a fraction.

“You don’t have to get a tramp stamp, you know. We know you love us,” Foggy says, only half-joking.

“I do love you,” Matt answers, quiet and honest. “But I know I hurt you guys, and I can’t fix that. No amount of self-hatred can fix it.” Karen opens her mouth, looking hurt, but Foggy waves a hand at her silently and turns back to Matt, who’s looking contemplative. The tattoo artist starts up the machine. “I can’t change the past, but I can be better in the future. For what it’s worth, I’m yours. And anyway,” his mouth curls up into a smirk that’s just a little forced as the needle touches his skin, “it’s nice, having physical evidence of this. Of you. I like it.”

Somewhere deep in Foggy’s hindbrain, he kind of likes it too, not that he’s going to admit it out loud. Staking his claim on Matt, having it burned into his skin so deep there’s no way that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen can ever take that away from him and Karen. It means so much, that Matt’s given up his stupid idea of staying away from them like it’s doing anything but punishing them all. That he’s trying to make this work even through all the shit and near-death experiences and the whole Fisk debacle. He came back to them. He loves them, even if he’s an emotionally constipated, self-sacrificing idiot.

Matt makes a soft little noise in the back of his throat and Foggy realises he’s holding his hand a little too tightly- although, with the amount of time Matt spends getting beaten bloody, it shouldn’t affect him at all. Maybe it’s just Foggy. He uses his other hand to pat the back of Matt’s hand, gently. Karen trades a guilty-looking smile with him and he feels a wave of relief at the confirmation that she’s just as possessive of Matt as he is. It’s funny how clingy they are towards him and yet they’re absolutely willing to share him anyway. To be fair, Foggy wouldn’t share him with anyone but Karen, because he loves Karen too, in a different way that’s no less important than the way he loves Matt. Foggy’s starting to worry he’s making a habit of picking up people that are intelligent and driven on the outside and jagged and broken on the inside, but he’ll help them pick up the pieces anyway.

“Think you’ll get an avocado next?”

Matt snorts. “I’m not covering my entire body in tattoos for your amusement, no matter how much I love you.”

“An avocado would be cute, though,” Karen chimes in with a grin.

“You’re cute,” Foggy retorts, and Karen laughs at him. She has to get up from her seat to walk around the artist to get to Foggy, but she leans down to press a quick, amused kiss to his lips. He might go into cardiac arrest from how happy he is right now. He hadn’t thought it’d been possible, after Elektra and Daredevil and the lies and the bone-wrenching fear that one day he was going to turn on the news and find out Matt had been killed by one of Fisk’s henchmen, but here he was. Here they were. Content and safe and learning to fit around each others’ corners and edges again, the right way this time.

“All done,” the artist says, pulling out the cream. “No point in asking you if you want to see it in the mirror, I guess.”

“We’ll look for him,” Karen assures him, taking Foggy’s hand to pull him down to where the ink’s standing out in stark contrast from the pale skin of Matt’s back. He’s fairly sure they can’t touch it, but the temptation to bend down and taste the skin, make Matt arch up and gasp, is almost palpable. That’s his mark on Matt’s body, his and Karen’s, displaying who Matt belongs to for the whole world to see. It’s a heady rush, and the way Matt’s shifting his hips back and forth subtly confirms Foggy’s suspicions that Matt _likes_ the pain and burn of the needles. It’s far hotter than it should be, considering Foggy never enjoyed sadism before now, but Karen’s got a glint in her blue eyes that tells him she’s feeling the same way.

Matt stays still for just long enough to let the artist conduct the aftercare and give him instructions written on a piece of paper that gets folded and put into Karen’s bag, and then he tosses what’s probably too much money into the artist’s lap and tips his head in their direction expectantly.

“Let’s go home, Matt,” Foggy says softly, and delights in the way Matt twitches a little at the command in his voice. Karen’s the more dominant one of them, but Matt seems to appreciate the little authority Foggy uses every now and then. On the way out, he watches Karen’s hand slip down Matt’s back to press on the tattoo over the cloth of his shirt, grinning when Matt goes slightly red and shifts back into the sensation.

He’s _theirs_.


End file.
